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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24820195">You and Me and Koi Fish</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurupira/pseuds/kurupira'>kurupira</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hunter X Hunter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Eventual Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck, Everyone Is Gay, Fluff and Angst, M/M, References to Depression, Trans Kurapika, and crying, but no spoilers and like you dont have to have read it, im sorry, it technically happens after the dark continent arc, killua and gon are gay kids cuz those exist u know, leorio and kurapika are pretty much vibing, no im not, theres a lot of crying, yea im trans and projecting so what</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:08:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,441</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24820195</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurupira/pseuds/kurupira</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Reunited at last, Kurapika, Leorio, Gon and Killua struggle to make sense of the past in order to dive into a brighter future.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck, Kurapika/Leorio Paladiknight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>78</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi, Jay here! I've been working on this fic for a while now and, well, here it is!<br/>Feel free to pass by my tumblr (kur-upira) to chat or just say hi :D</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Hey, Pairo!"</p><p>Kurapika stumbled across the woods, his tiny feet getting caught in the roots that blanketed the ground. "Guess what!" He finally got to his friend, hunching over in a desperate pant.</p><p>Pairo, in turn, was more than delighted to be in the receiving end of apparent great news. He flicked his dark bangs out of his forehead and looked back, diverting from the very interesting koi fish that circled around a lake. Kurapika held up a hand, as if begging for a second, never quite learning that running that fast only wasted time. And then he shoved a ripped page dotted with images and words in the alphabet they so struggled to understand; the language that would be their Prince Charming and take them out of this place.</p><p>"What is that?" Pairo squinted at the letters, trying to decipher them despite the exuberant tremble that consumed Kurapika's hands.</p><p>"It's this really cool thing from the outside world," Kurapika said, "And my dad told me it could help me feel better."</p><p>Pairo sighed, not having any of his questions answered. "But what does it do?" He took the paper in his hands, and moved his lips in accordance to the description. It was nothing more than a chest binder, but for Pairo, it sounded like another high-tech apparel people outside had come up with. Actually, they even had some at the village, but those happened to be incredibly overpriced. "Woah, this looks really cool! Are you going to get one?"</p><p>"Yep!" he puffed his chest proudly, taking back the advertisement and stuffing it into his pocket. "By next week." The excitement creeped at his eyes, forcing them into a strong red that defeated the purpose of his quick breathing exercize on the way there.</p><p>Pairo turned back to the pond, that soft grin never leaving his lips. It was true that the entire village had been outwardly accepting of Kurapika, but he had heard some in between every now and then (albeit mostly from those who married into the clan) that he hoped would never get to the boy. Seeing him so thrilled to take a step further in his adventure truly lifted Pairo's heart, as it was a good sign that the negative talk was clearly not getting to him, and if it was, it was doing no damage to his identity and who he was.</p><p>Yes, Pairo had promised all those years ago to never take an injury in Kurapika's place again, but if it was either he or Kurapika who would hear the horrifying ideas that floated above some Kurta's heads, he would rather take it than risk losing his friend to a darker side of the brain.</p><p>Shoving those thoughts away, he turned to Kurapika, who swirled his finger around the water like a stick slowly brewing cotton candy, creating shallow waves that lived for a short while before disappearing into the water. Just like the judgement and prejudice that filled the village's inner circle, something Pairo had access to solemnly because of his father's connection to the Elder.</p><p>For what seemed like hours, the two sat by the lake, caught in the hypnotising show before them. Big koi, small koi, all swimming and hiding and reappearing, evoking small splashes that complimented the faint chirps resounding from the trees. Women chattered and laughed from a distance, perhaps catching up to the latest gossip while picking up berries and fruits. When their voices grew too loud, a flock of birds would leave the trees, scarring the fish away. But it wasn't long before Kurapika and Pairo's giggles ceased and the koi came back to further entertain the two.</p><p>"We should go to my house," Kurapika finally suggested, standing up and dusting off the newly-bought pants. "My dad made stew. You know it's the best in the village."</p><p>Pairo nodded joyfully, and soon they were going back through the woods and finding shortcuts that were still to be mapped in one of their haphazardly put together adventure logs, sharing funny puns and making stories that were bound to come true once they left to the outside world. Stories with kind-hearted robots and talking animals, and books and knowledge that never seemed to end. Did they know about the Kurtas? What did they think of them? Who would they meet? What would they see? Those questions tickled Kurapika night and day, leaving him in and out of daydreams and expectancy. He was so not going to spend the rest of his life secluded in this forest. Not when there's an entire planet out there dripping with possible discoveries.</p><p>And, hopefully, a doctor.</p><p>It wasn't long until they arrived at the village, where Kurapika waved at his mother who, in turn, was busy planting a few new flowers outside their windows. They were in season, but also really just another fuel to her gardening obsession. She were slowly but surely running out of spaces to plant things. That had cost Kurapika and his father their rooms, where vines crawled around the walls, accentuated by dainty red roses that added some kind of fantastic atmosphere to the cottage. While for the family it was nothing but a natural part of their life, other people—Pairo included—were astonished by the amount of time and care put into the hobby.</p><p>The second they stepped into the house, a delicious smell wrapped around the two. "Pairo is staying for dinner too, alright?" Kurapika quickly ran to his room, not having the patience to stay and have his hair ruffled by his dad, which had quickly become a tradition between the two. Once in the room, he skimmed through the scrapbooks and picked the newest one, opening it to a blank page and stamping the binder ad to it like a trophy. Pairo then took a pen from the desk and started translating the words, always reliable when it came to it. While Kurapika had a near flawless pronunciation, his vocabulary would never be even close to Pairo's. The boy had been born with a lot of space in his brain.</p><p>"You know, when we leave, you should get a job as an author," Kurapika pictured, watching in awe as the pen swiftly moved to write down the main ideas. Pairo hummed in response, as that had been an aspiration for him ever since he first picked up a pen.</p><p>"I'll document your adventures," he said, the words painting Kurapika's cheek this pretty shade of red. "That way, we'll be invincible."</p><p>'Invincible.' That sounded nice. Pairo shut the now complete book, adding the word to the cover with a shimmery white pen. No matter what others say, they will always be invincible.</p><p>It was at around eight that the two were called to dinner, the room packed with the warmth of home-cooked stew; with that smell that would later say "childhood." Kurapika's father carefully poured a fair amount into each bowl, then handed them out. Once the four had seated, the chatting began. It was a strange brew of complaints and gossip and laughs and storytelling, with a few scolds sprinkled on top. Kurapika and table manners were not a very nice couple. He would often get caught chucking large amounts of food into his mouth, or raising his knee until it levelled with his chin, not to mention the loud voice and spills and overall mess. Most of the time, his parents would let it slip. But not always, and whenever they got mad, they would burst into these two raging wolves.</p><p>Although not over table manners. Usually over schoolwork or frog-hunting after curfew.</p><p>"Pairo and I just finished another notebook," Kurapika said, shooting out a few vegetables. "Can we get a new one?"</p><p>His mother looked away, deep in though. "Wasn't that one your fifth?"</p><p>"Seventh," Pairo corrected.</p><p>It seemed to silence the table. On one end, two kids watched expectantly. From the other, they were met with blank stares. They were truly dedicated to leaving the village; it wasn't just a sudden obsession that would fade away with time. Seven notebooks filled to the brim with research and tales was past a mere phase. Kurapika's parents had debated whether to keep it going or put out the fire. It could be dangerous. But it could also be the start of something new. What if they do leave? And what if they don't come back? And what if other people follow them out? That would mean they would eventually become part of the outside world. And they would have to learn to deal with the consequences. And that would take time and effort and possibly even lives.</p><p>"We'll think about it," his father finally breathed before standing up and taking his bowl to the kitchen. The other three followed suit, and eventually parted ways.</p><p>Kurapika made his way to his bedroom, Pairo following closely behind.</p><p>"Would you like to stay for the night?"</p><p>Of course he did. He aways did. It wouldn't be a full week if they didn't have another sudden sleepover. And their parents were used to it. If Pairo didn't show up until curfew he would most definitely be at Kurapika's house, and vice-versa. It was a natural thing, they were like two koi fins, connected by this complex but simple concept of friendship.</p><p>Or better yet, brotherhood.</p>
<hr/><p>"Hey, we're here," a soft voice echoes.</p><p>Kurapika blinks his eyes open, lifting his head to look out the window. He murmurs a few incomprehensible words, and soon they're out of the airship and inside the airport, Leorio leading the way around shop owners and travellers and mothers and all sorts of different sounds emerging from the airport like smoke leaving a kettle. They settle on a nearby bench, hoping some overpriced ice-cream will scare away the warmth crawling onto their skin.</p><p>Spoiler: it's no use.</p><p>"They'll arrive anytime now," Leorio says, glancing at his watch. It had been a long enough trip for them, but for sure it was not comparable to the one the two boys were challenging. The city has seen countless reunions—-both good and not so good—-and seemed to be the perfect location, despite being pretty distant from all of their starting points.</p><p>Kurapika discards his now empty ice-cream cup and rests his head on Leorio's shoulder, who in turn pulls out his phone. There are several texts from Gon, who felt the need to document his entire trip. The two stifle a laugh, looking through the blurry selfies and all-caps updates. He had boarded three days ago. He would arrive in no time.</p><p>"Apparently there's a koi fish pond now." Leorio turns off his phone with a click, topping Kurapika's head with his own. He loved making it clear that he was, in fact, doubled in height. It was just a little game he played with everyone he met. "Do you want to check that out?"</p><p>Kurapika closes his eyes, still drowsy from the recent nap. "Not now," he says. "We'll go when they arrive." His words were jumbled into a big snowball, rolling out of his tongue without much care. His accent—-something he constantly succeeded to conceal—-tingled Leorio's ears, being perfect evidence to Kurapika's rare but there dismissal of formalities and perfection. It wasn't much: Kurapika had spent enough time in the outside world. But it was just this extra freckle that dotted his speech when it was just the two of them, and it was an affirmation that they were at last in somewhat privacy; in a situation where no one would be bothered by a slightly more intimate connection between the two.</p><p>In all actuality, nothing was completely established in their relationship. It was harder and harder to refer to each other. Good friend, best friend, partner, boyfriend—-all of these were correct but not correct at the same time. Sure, they talked about girls (and boys) together quite often, and Kurapika had been sent to a few blind dates with nurses. But they had also gone to bed together, and shared more than a few kisses. That lack of labels, however confusing, was also quite comforting. It gave them freedom to roam around, yet a place to call home when things didn't go as planned.</p><p>The past year had its ups and downs. The eyes had all been recovered, which threw Kurapika into a deep well of worthlessness and no concern for the future. The Spiders were also gone. There was nothing left for him to do in this world.</p><p>It was time to move on.</p><p>Every night was accompanied by seas, no, oceans of tears. It was suffocating. Every night, the feeling of loneliness creeped into his bed and pierced his heart with sharp claws of defeat. He felt like just another useless koi fish swimming foolishly around a pond, waiting to take a bait and leave for good. He wondered why the bait was taking so long to sink into the water. Might as well go get it himself.</p><p>What was the end of the tunnel for him was the day Leorio showed up at his front door, eyes wide with despair. Without second thought, Kurapika took him inside and they both collapsed onto a corner, tears peppering the floor while a Kurta melody hopelessly escaped Kurapika's lips. "She was five," Leorio had muttered. "She was five."</p><p>"It's not your fault."</p><p>"That's not what her brother said."</p><p>"It's not your fault." Kurapika tightened his grasp, burrying his nose in those stubby black locks. His lip quivered. His shoulders shook. Not necessarily because he was sad; but because Leorio was losing control of himself and just the image of him coming apart over one of inevitably many patients haunted Kurapika's thoughts.</p><p>That was when they made the mutual, silent decision to stick together. This was adulthood. This was what they were about to face on a much regular basis. A concept so simple, yet something they had never thought through. The Dark Continent expedition had awakened a selfishness none of them could comprehend; what was supposed to be a team effort ended in a free-for-all brawl where you watched your back and your back only, and in that mess they had misplaced their empathy and solidarity for each other. But this was different. Leorio had laid himself bare. He was broken. So was Kurapika. They weren't alone. They weren't one of a kind. They understood each other.</p><p>And that was enough.</p><p>They can't exactly pin-point what caused Leorio to call Gon and Killua and schedule such a sudden meeting. It was just an idea that hit him during lunch one day. They were sitting at a small riverside restaurant, listening to those soft guitar tunes and watching a pigeon nip at crumbs. Maybe it was the way a few more pidgeons joined it soon after, maybe it was the way the table next to them erupted in glee when a couple arrived and started greeting everyone with cheek-ripping smiles and strong handshakes. But that was not the point, because here they were, after months of emails and schedules and organising in general.</p><p>"Look."</p><p>Kurapika pulls his head away, snapping awake as Leorio frantically waves at the crowd.</p><p>Gon sees him first, possibly using his nose to his advantage. In seconds, he's tugging at Killua's hoodie, and soon the four of them clash, Gon quickly diving into Leorio's arms while Kurapika takes Killua in an equally strong embrace, something that was not in his original plans but ended up being irresistible at that particular instant. In those first moments, there are no words. The crowd shuffling around the platform seems more and more distant. They aren't important. For now, they are taking in the changes and what stayed the same; like how Killua had grown bulkier and Kurapika, frailer. And how Gon's lack of working out had resulted in this pair of chubby arms that would for sure host the warmest of cuddles.</p><p>Then comes the tears, soft at first, then stronger and stronger on some ends. Particularly on Leorio's. He is just a complete and utter mess, which is suddenly very funny for the other three who joyfully brush at their eyelids. "You're still just a big baby," Killua laughs, pocketing his hands. Gon debates whether to scold him or not, but that is the least of his priorities right now.</p><p>What is needed now are giggles, not troubles. They are reunited at last, but every second is precious. Every single one of them have a different idea of how long this will last. Hours? Days? Months?</p><p>Killua finds himself lost in thought, his gaze slowly drifting from Gon to Kurapika to Leorio to Gon again. His ears completely block out the conversation, leaving nothing but the sweet presence of good friends and good people.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi, thank you for everyone who left kudos/comments, I'm really glad y'all liked it so far and hope this chapter is gucci :)<br/>(it's pretty long compared to the other one, and I'm not sure if that's good or bad but oh well)</p><p>I decided to update every two Tuesdays, but who knows, I might update more regularly if I'm free!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>What was a tipping point for Killua was the way his father shook his head while exiting the room, disappearing into the hallway as the door shut with a loud thud. Killua scrambled to his feet and raced towards it, apologising profusely in wails and fists. Although his mistake was still a blur, he would rather apologise for nothing than lose his father’s approval. It was a natural instinct. Probably something to do with having such high expectations at such a young age. Milluki could spend the day in his room, eating all kinds of potato chips, yet Killua had to take every step with care.</p><p>It was like living in a minefield.</p><p>Don’t do this, don’t do that, don’t eat this, don’t say that; these statements were all he was used to. “If I tell you not to do something, do not do it.” Easy as so. Even the smallest act of just considering something outside of his father’s comfort zone could be deadly, and that might be the reason why he was thrown into his room with no explanation and left to rot.</p><p>The thing is, for the past few days he had been sneaking into Alluka’s room. And he was caught. And now she would be moved to something like solitary confinement (although Silva preferred the term “it’s own space”) and he… well, he would find out eventually. For now, Killua’s only orders were to stay in his room and shut his mouth. Both proven to be weirdly hard.</p><p>When his hands grew tired of banging on the wood and his head stung and pounded, he sat back and took a few deep breaths, hoping to calm the emotions raging in his little brain. That’s when he spotted the JoyStation console shoved under his bed, and a new thought flourished inside him like a raindrop splashing into a pond. One of those raindrops that escape the clouds after curfew; the ones that don’t pay attention to instructions and go off on their own. The storm has passed. That was very selfish of you. Now the pond has another raindrop to deal with, can’t you tell that it has enough problems already?</p><p>Problems like those 8-bit fighters who all said something along the lines of “bring it on, kid!” only to land a few kicks and face the usual defeat in a matter of minutes. It was extremely boring. Killua was wasting his time on something that no longer affected him.</p><p>Shuffling through the discs, he came across a game Alluka herself had bought him with her own pocket money. Sure, her pocket money was around three minimum ages, but we’re not here to discuss the many negative consequences of capitalism.</p><p>It was a fairly simple game, but she had chosen it because, in her own words, “It’s something I can play, too.” Her hands were far too small to actually grip the controller, much less reach the buttons. This game, however, required none of that. All you had to do was guide a koi fish around a pond, and then there were a few features like several different tunes and skins. Alluka was pretty obsessed with a flute track, while Killua was more about the guitar counterpart.</p><p>But he would have plenty of time to listen to it, so for the sake of old times, he selected Alluka’s favourite and closed his eyes, quickly getting caught up in its soothing melody.</p><p>It sounded like giggles and shushes and requests and wishes; like the sound of footsteps strolling down the hallways and of hiding under the sheets in an attempt to look fast asleep. And the sound of a door creaking open after a knock and a caring servant giving them one final warning before backing away with a smile. The sound of “You have classes tomorrow, master. Don’t stay up too late,” followed by fake snores and muffled snorts. All the while being nothing but the sound of a repetitive flute recording sprayed with cheap audio edits and in-game noises.</p><p>That was what Killua desperately wished to continue; what lead him to disobey clear orders and go into Alluka’s bedroom night after night. If it weren’t for the unexpected guests they had tonight, he wouldn’t have bumped into his parents in the living room and everything would’ve turned out fine.</p><p>Killua’s daydreams are cut short by Gotoh’s announcement that he was to eat dinner in his room.</p><p>“Gotoh,” he called, waiting for the servant to walk in before continuing. “Do you have recording tape?”</p><p>He placed the dinner tray down on Killua’s desk, fixing his glasses before replying, “Why would you want some?”</p><p>“Does that matter?”</p><p>“Definitely.” He quickly glanced at a nightstand, cleared his throat, and excused himself before leaving. Killua’s lips quirked up in a smirk, satisfied with the answer. He took the tape from the drawer then restarted the flute melody, making sure to capture every note. Once that was done, he slipped the tape into his water bottle and jotted down a quick note before placing it on the tray. Now all he had to do was wait. Wait for Gotoh to take his tray back to the kitchen and move the water bottle to Alluka's desert tray; the one with delicate strawberries and tarts and sweet hot chocolate.</p><hr/><p>The koi fish gracefully swirl around the lake, unaware of the way Killua stared at them with a certain intensity. It’s not like he was angry, he was just thinking. Thinking about the way they had been waiting for this day for the past two or so years. Thinking about how grateful he was and how everything had somehow turned out fine.</p><p>From the moment he and Alluka first stepped onto the airship that would signify the beginning of their journey to the moment he got a phone call from Leorio about the plans to meet up he had nothing but the two years that followed the Hunter Exam he tragically failed in mind.</p><p>Yes, he also focused on forming a tighter bond with Alluka—-that was, after all, one of the reasons he detached from Gon in the first place. But no matter how long she spent trapped in her room, her social battery was quite short. One second she’s yelping and jumping around, amazed by all the people, and the next she’s bad-tempered and stressed and just really in need of a break.</p><p>So whenever she was granted her privacy, Killua would pull out the many pictures they took during meetings and partings and long nights and short days, yearning to be with the best friends he could ever ask for. And now they have united once again, huddled around a small koi pond, crouching and standing and moving around and sitting down, but never quite leaving the area. It’s like a thread was woven into each of their hearts, making it impossible to walk away by yourself.</p><p>Unexpectedly, a stray hand waves at Killua’s face, and once he shakes his head as if to return to planet Earth he is met with a “Gon is calling you” from Leorio. His eyes search around the pond, locating his target pointing down at a specific fish and claiming that it looks like Killua. His curiosity takes the best of him and he jogs towards Gon’s voice.</p><p>“It’s just a normal fish,” he asserts, sitting down to get a closer look.</p><p>“No, look, it has a lightning bolt near its belly.”</p><p>Killua had not been given koi fish biology classes. Weren’t they just 90% belly and then eyes and fins? Eventually (after a lot of scanning and even an attempt to rely on Gyo which is cut short when he remembers  Gon had most definitely not used it) he spots the faint lines and smiles widely, realising he had never shown Leorio or Kurapika his new ability.</p><p>Stealthing up to Leorio, he charges some electricity between his thumb and index finger and quickly makes contact with his first victim before grinning sheepishly and taking a step back for safety. Leorio blinks in confusion, then comprehends what is going on and proceeds to chase after Killua.</p><p>What was supposed to be a friendly game of tag ends in a growing nen battle. The situation brings back blurry memories from the fourth phase of the Hunter Exam, whipping the four in a strange nostalgia. Joining in, Gon tugs at Kurapika’s arms, drags him towards the battlefield——or really just the parking lot——and faithfully calls out for Killua, chanting haphazardly-made cheers and sticking out his tongue whenever Leorio begs for the least bit of support.</p><p>No, Killua’s not doing very okay. Gon’s compliments are still a big obstacle for him, and the more he listens to his sole fan, the redder his cheeks turn. He was, in fact, becoming a tomato. “Stop it,” he says.</p><p>Leorio lets out a chuckle, giving in and disheveling Killua’s pale hair with a bulky hand. “That’s enough attention for today, Lukia,” he jokes. Killua growls and pulls away from the steel grip. He doesn’t want to stop, but luckily Kurapika cuts in, reminding them that they still have to book a room at a hotel.</p><p>Fortunately, Killua, who had arrived a full day earlier, already has that covered up. There’s a luxurious resort in the centre of the city---about forty minutes from the airport---and it happened to be particularly empty. The long trip is nothing but a plus: the four could fill it up with more catching up and napping.</p><p>And they did, until they arrived at their destination and were quick to pay and hop out. Inside, bellhops pace around a marbled lobby with luggage carts and trays and well-groomed suits fresh out of the laundry. Certainly, all this wouldn’t be anywhere near affordable if it weren’t for the four Hunter Licenses in game.</p><p>Killua, Gon, Kurapika and Leorio stroll towards the front desk, taking in the hotel and its many features through beautifully put together pamphlets displayed near the entrance. “Alluka and I arrived last night,” says Killua. “Gon can stay in our room, but that’s all we can manage to squeeze in.”</p><p>“Thank you for the offer.” Leorio looks away, sarcasm overflowing from his voice. He glances at Kurapika, who seems to be caught in an endless loop of questions and deductions and denials about Alluka. And then he speaks up. “If you answered your damn phone,” he scolds, “You wouldn’t be so lost.”</p><p>“You still have no class, do you?” The sudden harshness that freezes Kurapika’s tone silences the group, a cold gaze digging into Leorio’s soul. The comment was supposed to be lighthearted. It was supposed to add to the joy of being reunited. But he should have known how sensible this was as a topic in general; how any connection to the Kurtas or the eyes could bite down really hard on Kurapika and serve as the biggest of triggers. Half-way through a low apology, Gon clears his throat and brings the subject back to its original point. </p><p>“How has Alluka been doing?” he asks, pretending to be unfazed by the tension growing behind him.</p><p>“She’s great.” Killua had her go explore the city on her own. Surprisingly, she was quite understanding of his need to spend some time alone with his friends, although he did have to say goodbye to a few bucks as a compromise.</p><p>They closely listen to the receptionist’s suggestions, and then Leorio asks if it would be fine for him and Kurapika to take the room connecting with Killua’s, to which Kurapika responds with a minimal shrug.</p><p>“So we’ll take that room,” he concludes, pulling out his license and letting out a loud sigh.</p><p>* * *</p><p>“Are you just going to ignore me?”</p><p>Kurapika was busy unpacking and carefully placing each clothing into one half of the wardrobe. Of course he would ignore him at this particular moment. Multitasking brought nothing but stress, and his favourite way of working was in complete quietness, so while there were still clothes lying in the suitcase there would be no conversation.</p><p>Meanwhile, the other room yells and laughs, adding great contrast to the situation in theirs. There's also the distinct chattering of a sitcom, bedazzled with terribly timed applauses and furniture chaotically moving around.</p><p>“Kurapika, Leorio, check this out!” Killua bursts into the room, showing off another one of his cat compilations and drowning in laughter while Gon snickers behind him. In seconds, they were all lost in chuckles——-all but Kurapika, who breathes out a “funny” and disappears into the bathroom. All eyes immediately land expectantly on Leorio, and he mouths something in the lines of ‘this always happens, just give him some time.’</p><p>With that, they migrate back to Gon and Killua’s room and lightly close the door, although leaving a small strip cracked open. Leorio is given a brief overview of the sitcom booming from the television and takes a seat on the couch, throwing any etiquete out the window and adjusting his legs onto what would be considered terribly uncomfortable for other people but is really the best sitting position for him. With a huff, Killua drops onto the carpet and Gon quickly follows suit.</p><p>The sitcom wasn’t necessarily the best. Killua had watched it countless times; every quote was engraved onto his mind like orange patches painted over shimmery white koi fish. Yet Gon hadn’t. In fact, one of the first things to pop up when they met at a cafe earlier that day was the show, and Gon had made Killua promise to binge it with him. “It gets pretty boring when I’m alone,” he had explained.</p><p>So they sat and watched episode after episode, stopping briefly to go downstairs for a quick lunch at the hotel’s restaurant area. It offered an all-you-can-eat buffet featuring pretty much every edible thing in existence. The three sit at a corner table, barely having enough time to put down any keys, wallets or phones before Gon hops up and begins zooming through the dishes, filling two plates to the brim.</p><p>“Are you stupid?” Killua hissed, giving the poor boy a loud chop that split his hair in two pretty distinct sections. “The food isn’t going anywhere!” All Gon was able to let out was a soft giggle that dove into Killua’s ears and swam all the way down to his heart, flourishing in the form of a warm puddle that filled him with that strange feeling he was deprived of for the past few years. It was like a sweet candy bar that seems to shrink every time it’s back in stock. Same price, two times smaller.</p><p>As much as he hated to admit it, Gon became a much-needed drug, and the feeling of being apart was similar to that of withdrawals. He had let himself be fished by Gon’s palpable kindness and generosity, betting on a friendship that was sure to take rapid, scary turns. </p><p>Despite being incredibly grateful for all Gon has done of him, however, the battle against Pitou was still fresh in his mind, stinging his patched up heart, and even though there had been countless apologies throughout the years and he had forgiven him in every way, it took him a while to get rid of the bitter aftertaste of betrayal. After all, it had been Gon, of all people. </p><p>But now, that was all in the past. It’s high time they move on. Killua is having fun, and he has been since they first reunited. The tight hug and “Killua you look so cool!” served as a great reminder to how those memories wouldn’t cause a permanent stain in their relationship. </p><p>It’s around three in the afternoon when they get back to their rooms and have a quick rock-paper-scissors tournament to see who will be the one to interrupt Kurapika’s world-famous social isolation sessions. Killua is the unfortunate sacrifice and is not-so-lightly pushed towards the connecting door and into the room and onto the ground. “You’re a bunch of cowards,” he says, climbing to his feet with the help of a bed. Stumbling to the bathroom, he clears his throat and knocks once then twice and not taking note that his target wasn’t in there anymore, but peacefully reading on the floor between the beds, completely ignoring the shameful scene playing out a few feet away.</p><p>“Killua,” Kurapika calls, sending shivers down his spine. “What do you want?”</p><p>“Oh, it’s nothing, just checking if you’re alive.” Killua shrugs and leaves the room, murmuring a “we’re watching something cool” but not really expecting him to join them. Which is why he’s completely taken by surprise when Kurapika starts standing up, assuring that he’ll be there in one moment or something like that.</p><p>Killua passes the message on and shuts the connecting door, getting back to his spot but soon adjusting to rest his head on Gon’s knee. “Jet-lagged,” he says, closing his eyes. What he really wants, however, is an excuse to feel Gon’s skin against his skin and that warmth and softness and to be engulfed in the smell of trees with honeybees and apple flowers. As if it couldn’t get better, Gon’s fingers find their way into Killua’s hair, softly brushing every section.</p><p>“Your hair is so long,” he points out.</p><p>“I don’t like it. It looks like my dad’s.”</p><p>Leorio’s ears perk up, a selfish grin decorating his rather scary comment, “Then let me chop that off.” The two kids spike up at the idea, Killua quickly going through his pencil case for a pair of scissors and finding a mirror. They seal the deal: everyone gets to cut for three minutes. The blades make their way up to cheek-height when, as if on cue, the door clicks open and Kurapika walks in.</p><p>With a gasp, he takes the scissors (and their happiness) away and shoves them into his pockets. “Scissors are dangerous,” he says, soon redirecting his glare at Leorio. “I thought you were taking care of them!” He lets out a sigh, then offers to take Killua to the hair salon down the block, considering it a much more logical solution than creating some crazy home-made hairstyle.</p><p>Leorio protests, but you do not tell Kurapika off. The usual punishment is a loud noise, but this time he was too tired so all he did was throw a shoe (which turned out to be Gon’s, so the smell wasn’t the best).</p><p>Killua gulps, passing a hand through his hair as to assure that yes, Kurapika, it’s still here, I didn’t even touch it. Gon steals the attention to further protect his friend. “How about we go down to the pool?” That was something he’d been looking forward to ever since he first looked at the hotel, and also served as another perfect way to leave the other plans as far behind as possible. Leorio was quick to agree, a big smile smearing onto his face. Killua was reluctant but eventually gave in, although Kurapika had no time for silly games. However, he did accept to go and take a book or something. That was only fair.</p><p>Towels in a bag, swimming trunks on, the four reach the empty pool. Considering the cost of the hotel and time of the year, it’s no surprise they’re one of the few guests who have enough free time to relax. Most people are probably here for work.</p><p>Leorio drops his shirt onto a lounge chair, Gon and Killua mimicking the action in an attempt to look as confident and cool. Killua was the coolest. But no one could crush Leorio’s ego.</p><p>Kurapika takes the chair next to it, opening his book to the right page and inwardly celebrating the accomplishment. He dives head-first into it, compelled by the main character’s philosophic thinking even during the simplest of situations. Then a blob of sunscreen drops onto the page. Killua stutters an apology, having reached over Kurapika to get the bottle that popped open at the worst time. Sitting on the floor, he begins his long journey of putting on multiple layers of sunscreen, a necessity for his light skin. So light, indeed, that the sun had already given his cheeks a soft kiss.</p><p>“Aren’t you going in?” Kurapika asks, referring to how Killua leaned back after putting down the bottle. </p><p>“It’s too sunny. I’ll wait a bit.”</p><p>Other than the splashing and giggles coming from the pool, everything is completely silent. It gets way too awkward for Killua to handle it. He needs something to say. Something he can play around with to get rid of this terrible feeling. Luckily, that’s when he hears Gon implore for a more detailed telling of the Dark Continent expedition, which is a good conversation starter.</p><p>“So, you and Leorio.” Killua purses his lips and looks up. “Very close, huh?”</p><p>“That has nothing to do with you," Kurapika deadpans.</p><p>More silence, and defeated twitching on Killua’s side. Kurapika seems to notice it. Putting his book away, he sits up properly and retorts the previous comment, "You like Gon, don’t you?” And that makes Killua poof with a sudden blush he attempts to hide by looking away, but it’s too late.</p><p>“I like girls.” That’s the best he can muster on the spot, but he’s quite proud of it. It’s very subtle; very fool-proof. He was, after all, a true heterosexual. Gon? That kid was just a good friend. Any thoughts of tangling their fingers like spaghetti or kissing those tiny lips were completely platonic. Right?</p><p>Right.</p><p>And now he was going to control his racing heartbeat because of course there was absolutely nothing to be freaking out about. In fact, Kurapika had dropped the subject. That makes everything easier. Right?</p><p>Right.</p><p>So calm down. Think about puppies. No, not Gon’s adorable puppy-like eyes. Puppies. Maybe koi fish, koi fish are nothing but, well, fish. Very, very relaxing fish.</p><p>Like water flowing around a pond, his mind wanders in fairly dangerous areas before escaping somewhere else only to return to those initial thoughts, and he has no intention of responding to Gon’s calls or even nagging him for getting everything wet. He just stares straight ahead, mind racing in all different directions, although he was apparently a master at the art of pretending to be all ears.</p><p>It’s true, maybe he does see Gon as a little bit more than just a friend, but it isn’t his choice. The whole idea of having to deal with those feelings in such an uncaring world slowly nips at him the more he acknowledges them. </p><p>It’s just something about how Gon runs around like the world is nothing more than a big back yard; how nothing is “too dangerous” or “too audacious” for him. If he wants to go somewhere, he’ll bounce his way in like a frog hopping around a pond, discovering the most hidden of places and seeing the most amazing of things. Killua misses that sense of adventure and can barely hold the urge to take Gon’s hand and run away to a forest to taste new fruits and swim in crystal-like lakes and find funny animals that would for sure keep them laughing for days.</p><p>To be honest, it’s not a bad idea. At least not the way he sees it.</p><p>Gon stands up, sprinkling water all over Kurapika and Killua. “I’m getting cold, let’s go in,” he demands. Killua squeezes his eyes shut in a wince but quickly follows Gon into the pool, diving in and enjoying how refreshing the cold water feels around his body and how his hair flew like clouds before he resurfaced and everything stuck to him like molten lollipop smearing over a stick.</p><p>Gon sweeps Killua’s bangs off to the side, hoping to be granted the beautiful sight that is his ocean-blue eyes and painting a red(der) stain on Killua’s already burnt cheeks. And then he smiles so wide his eyes curve up. “I missed you,” he says, his words pushing Killua underwater in pure embarrassment. He wants to say it back, but that’s not how his brain functions. It’s always flight over fight. So he begins swimming away, only to run into the wall and leap up in pain.</p><p>Disappointed, Kurapika gives him a look that seems to say “be careful,” sinking in from the edge and allowing the water to slowly devour his legs then shorts then tank top until he’s finally comfortable enough to drop onto his tiptoes, moving around in an attempt to keep his balance.</p><p>In the end, all his effort is proved worthless. Leorio doesn’t think twice before sending a wave that happens to be a bit too strong and knocks Kurapika off his feet, receiving some wide-eyed looks from Killua and Gon who had been interrupted by the splash in the middle of their own water fight. They knew Kurapika was short, but not that short. It was supposed that he could at least keep both feet flat on the ground. They wait with nothing but concern for Kurapika to appear once again, finally doing so with a few coughs before rubbing at his eyes.</p><p>Leorio lifted his eyebrows incredulously, wondering how in the world Kurapika hadn’t died yet. He was truly reckless.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi,,,,<br/>I know, I know, I'm almost a full week late!!<br/>I had a weirdly hard time writing this chapter but well now it's done and it's a wee bit shorter than the rest but I hope it's all gucci ;v;</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Leorio’s community wasn’t the biggest, but it was his world. Crooked stairs he had gotten used to navigating, shared clotheslines and late afternoon football games at the local field were all part of his simple life. In fact, if it weren’t for the group of thirteen-year-olds he spent so much time with he wouldn’t be able to find a distraction from the growing number of deaths in the community.</p><p>It was a common illness; bug-borne. And it spread like wildfire.</p><p>If you were lucky, your boss would pay for the treatment. If not, you could try to rely on the small hospital the government had built all those years ago and never bothered to upgrade and hope for the best. It was nice to know the state pretended to care, but few lived to return home.</p><p>Every day at the field one of the kids would arrive in tears at the loss of a loved one. And everyone would swim in those tears, trying to find a way to cheer them up. Amalia might good at comforting, and that Gino guy had some nice jokes, but they were too young and too reckless to realise that this was far from a problem they could solve. People were dropping dead as they spoke. Even if they did manage to lighten the mood, all that would be shattered the very next day when this heavy wave crashed onto them once again.</p><p>Still, they kept moving forward. Regardless of who stayed and who ran home to the comfort of any family they had left, the teams were picked and the game would begin. Leorio, as a usual, stayed at the goal. He was tall. It was an easy job. And it allowed Pietro to sneak by every once in a while to complain about a player or boast about how his older sister had become quite a leader in the local Civil Rights campaign. Her goal? Women’s liberation. Women’s education. Women’s independence. Leorio had seen their marches around the city—that huge flock of hands and posters and signs of all shapes and sizes—and it was one of the most breathtaking scenes he had ever witnessed.</p><p>“Martha is really brave,” Pietro said, kicking a pebble across the field.</p><p>Leorio couldn’t contain the scoff. “Since when is walking down the street dangerous?”</p><p>“The city people don’t like it when we go against them, so they get angry.”</p><p>At that moment, the ball flew into Leorio’s shin (luck), and with it came quite a few complaints from their teammates. They were, after all, supposed to be playing, not chatting.</p><p>“If you’re not going to play then sit out,” shouted the captain. Leorio let out a nervous chuckle and repositioned in an attempt to look more alert, although his eyes were busy figuring out which position Pietro would take. He may look stupid, but his brain had won him multiple high-level scholarships and his friends relied on it for pre-game homework workshops and in-game strategies and post-game riddles. So from a simple glance around the field a map was magically drawn on his eyeballs and he let out a small smirk—a signal that had the other team shaking with anticipation.</p><p>Leorio was ready to go.</p><p>And with a loud “ready, start!” they all took off into sprints and zigzags and occasional laughs and cries and complaints and ‘nice job’s, boiling under the scalding summer sun.</p><p>The game smelled like teenage sweat, like dry grass, like over-washed clothing. It’s not until the sun dips behind the hills that they get to a stop, lead by the many parents and siblings and uncles and aunts calling the kids inside. They don’t count the goals: winning is not a priority. So one by one, the field was emptied, until there was only Leorio and Pietro, and they joked around a bit in the cool night breeze before eventually parting ways.</p><p>See you tomorrow, see you tomorrow, and the lights went out.</p><p>“Ma, I’m home,” Leorio announced, setting the football on the floor and stopping it with a simple tap of his foot. As expected, she was still off at work, so he made his way to the kitchen and turned on the stove to warm up her previously-made food, picking up his stack of homework and pencil from the table. He had promised to have it done by Monday, but with the extra time, it would be more than easy to complete it in one go.</p><p>Later that night, his mother’s big footsteps banged into the house, and the light in the kitchen turned on once again. Leorio leapt up from his bed and rushed downstairs, ready with billions of stories from the day.</p><p>But she was too tired, and her lack of response pulled Leorio down a waterfall of concern. “Are you good?”</p><p>“Did you see Pietro today?” Her words were peppered with the sound of a fork scraping the nearly empty koi fish print plate.  Some of the fish are covered in white lines from all the scraping, no, from her scraping. Repainting it would probably be fun. “Is he good?”</p><p>Leorio took a seat. “Yes, why?”</p><p>“Martha is sick, she’s been in bed for days.”</p><p>A gulp forced its way down his throat. If only he hadn’t have been so ignorant. You should ask people about their day, too. Congratulations, idiot, you successfully lost friendship points.</p><p>“Is it…” He couldn’t get any more words out. But his mother shrugged and asked him to wash the dishes, then disappeared behind a wall, leaving Leorio at a loss of words in the darkness of the kitchen.</p>
<hr/><p>The pool is cold, but it’s nothing compared to the wind howling outside. The four skip to the towels, quickly enveloping in the subtle warmth amidst shivers and clanking teeth. There’s another gust of wind, freezing all of them into solid ice. But Leorio isn’t about to get defeated by mere air. As they make their way to the changing room, he whips off his towel and erupts into the biggest pose he can under current conditions. No one looks back. What a miserable sight. What a shame. What a sin. Someone help that man.</p><p>“I can’t believe you guys are cold,” he says, making sure to keep his voice nice and steady.</p><p>“I can’t believe you’re suggesting we decide on attention over health, doctor,” Kurapika deadpans, opening the door and allowing Gon and Killua to sneak under his arm and explore the stalls and lockers and stairs. Leorio raises his eyebrows incredulously, although he has to admit the name sounded good. Doctor. An honorary title indeed.</p><p>They’re interrupted by a loud screech that pierced through their ears. Leorio stood up straight, a “what was that” rushing out of his mouth. And then there’s another scream, louder than the one before, yet accompanied by laughs. The two rush towards the back of the locker room---the source of the scream. “What in the world are you two doing,” Leorio asks between yells, although raising his hands to his ears to prepare for another wave.</p><p>“We’re screaming,” Gon says, matter-of-factly. Yes, they were screaming. That’s not something people usually do in locker rooms.</p><p>It is when Kurapika opens his mouth to beg for clarification, however, that Leorio takes their side and lets out a scream of his own. “Quiet down,” Kurapika hisses. “People are going to think there’s something going on!”</p><p>It’s too late. The three are too busy tearing their throats apart.</p><p>It feels strangely liberating to just throw everything out there and let the world deal with it. Whether people can hear it outside is none of their business at the moment; their business is releasing all of these bottled up feelings in one big gush of water, like a dam bursting open after years of being contained. For Leorio, this means ending all of his yells with a few giggles. He keeps watching as Gon and Killua hop around, and their frequent crashes are way too pure to ignore.</p><p>Another big breath, and then another loud screech. The louder the better. With every burst goes a bit of the pain; from the pain of losing Pietro to the pain of nearly losing Gon, too, to the pain of nearly losing Kurapika, too. And not only that, but also all of the stress and anxiety med school had given him in a silver goblet, and not to mention the struggle of balancing school and Zodiac duties and check-ins with Kurapika to make sure he’s doing alright. That guy never reaches out himself.</p><p>Speaking of which, Leorio had seen him leave when the yelling began. He ventures around the room, reckoning Kurapika must be changing as far away from them as possible.</p><p>Bingo.</p><p>“You know, you should try it too,” Leorio says. “It’s pretty nice.”</p><p>Kurapika zips up his shorts and bends down to pick up his satchel. “Okay.” That’s all he’s willing to say.</p><p>“Hey, are you not going to wait for us? Or even join us? I’m sure you won’t regret it, and since you spent the entire day by yourself I guess it would be nice to bond, it’s really been a while, after all, and not only that but...”</p><p>The babbling and background yelling are just too much. Too much noise, too much people, too much. Leorio thought so, but he assumed it wasn’t something Kurapika would have a big problem with. Boy was he wrong.</p><p>It doesn’t take a minute of rambling before Kurapika’s face scrunches up in discomfort. “Could you please shut up?”</p><p>“That’s very polite of you, sir.” Leorio shrugs and goes back to the now-quiet kids, who quickly began to shuffle around like little mice in order to shower as quickly as possible. No more yelling. At least that’s what the look in Leorio’s face says.</p><p>They don’t have to wait until they get to the room to bump into Alluka—she had lost her key (as expected) and was waiting outside. Her face lights up at the sight of the four, and she leaps to greet each and every one of them with words that bounced around the hallway, hopping off the floor and rebounding from the ceiling only to hit a wall and restart the cycle. She looked fine. Definitely more mature.</p><p>Leorio can’t help but hum joyfully as she and Gon break into a song, laughing innocently while Killua unlocks the door and they all file in. </p><p>Sure, his interactions with Alluka were extremely limited, but they were oh so heartwarming. And even with just the information he had from the quick meeting two years before, he could see how much she had grown. She knew more; she had seen more.</p><p>Killua pulls her into a tight bear hug and proceeds to properly introduce her to Kurapika. It’s like magic: a bond immediately forms. He is too easy on kids. That might be the reason why he shoots most of his anger at poor Leorio, but it’s a nice skill to have.</p><p>Not surprisingly, there’s a complaint on the desk for the yelling. Gon hopes he’s able to take it before anyone else sees it, but of course, that doesn’t work.</p><p>“Oh, that,” Alluka speaks up, sitting on a bed. “When I arrived, a hotel lady asked me if I knew which rooms ‘the people making a mess’ were in, so I told her.” She sways joyfully, even after getting several criticisms for snitching on them. “I mean, most people weren’t very happy with the ‘mess.’”</p><p>“I told you,” Kurapika sneers, and then says something about going to bed. At least that’s what he does. Leorio frowns, then takes the complaint from Gon’s hands and shoves it into his pocket.</p><p>“I hate getting in trouble.”</p><p>“Then don’t disturb other people,” Alluka retorts.</p><p>He looks up and rolls his eyes with a grin. “It’s called DIY therapy, ma’am.” Sarcasm. So much sarcasm it hurts. Gon snickers, probably to prevent any awkwardness. Not the reaction Leorio wanted, but he’s satisfied enough to go back to his room.</p><p>“Don’t forget to pee after sex,” Killua taunts, loud enough that it can probably be heard a few rooms down. And then he runs to shut and lock the door, successfully freeing himself from an argument (although it will probably come in the mail when he leaves the room in the morning).</p><p>Leorio closes their side behind him with a loud sigh and drops onto his bed, landing a flat stare on Kurapika and taking note of the way his lips move while he reads and how he whispers a few words louder than he intends and then shies away and how he clearly felt Leorio’s gaze but chose to ignore it either to seem superior or to annoy him. Both are valid reasons.</p><p>Then there’s this urge; this tiny voice in Leorio’s head that says “you should annoy him’ and despite it being the reason he keeps getting yelled at, he chooses to listen to it and climb onto Kurapika’s bed, who doesn’t even blink.</p><p>“You’re pretty,” Leorio dares, tucking a few rebellious blond tresses behind Kurapika’s ear. Such a simple statement, but it somehow widened the smile on their lips and made everything around them bloom, flooding the room with a warm feeling that is quick to take over and spreads from their hearts to their chests to their faces and leaves small dots of pink across their noses. </p><p>But then Leorio catches a glimpse of white strands; those white strands he so despised. Nothing but a constant reminder of the loss he’d suffer way too soon. Kurapika grimaces, a clear sign that this is not the kind of talk I want to have now please leave it for later. So, as if an apology, Leorio’s fingers trail down to Kurapika’s chin, and after getting a nice view of his mushed cheeks, he connects their foreheads with an accidental thud that shakes their brains. Kurapika’s chosen word was a simple “ouch,” but it’s covered up by breathy laughs he desperately tried to hold back.</p><p>And then Leorio’s gaze moves to his lips. “May I kiss you?” He glances back up, absorbing the way Kurapika’s eyes glisten like strawberry jello. They wiggle around, capturing every one of Leorio’s distinct features (things like the scrawny moustache growing over his lip and a freckle under his left eye) in one big picture and saving it for later.</p><p>“No,” Kurapika finally decides. Leorio shrugs, allowing delicate hands to pull him back to an upright position. “You didn’t brush your teeth yet, did you?”</p><p>Leorio takes the cue and rushes into the bathroom, spending a good amount of time brushing to the sound of Kurapika’s snickers. He barely has time to fully climb onto the bed when their lips connect, dancing around in such tenderness that Leorio’s head feels so light it’s like he’s been underwater for too long. In other times, he would likely allow his fingers to travel about, but lately, Kurapika has been more and more sensitive to physical intimacy and the simple way his hands were bundled on his lap was more than enough proof of his unease. One thing at a time. Hands or lips. Never both.</p><p>Kurapika pulls away, eyes a flaming red. He takes Leorio’s hand in his own and brings it to his chest, where his heart knocks loudly. Maybe he was stung by a jellyfish.</p><p>“You did this,” he says, staring deep into Leorio’s eyes.</p><p>Leorio didn’t know how to react to that. Was it supposed to be a joke? An insult? Heck, was it a compliment? His confusion hits the side of his head and forces it to tilt in response. “You amaze me sometimes,” he says, looking down and caressing Kurapika’s tummy with his knuckles, the thin pyjama exposing his bony structure. Kurapika lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and watches as Leorio ventures up, up and down again before dragging over the small lump of his chest and sharp collarbones and dropping to his hands, weaving their fingers into one, knitted pattern.</p><p>“Your hand is cold,” Kurapika whispers, and after wrapping both of his hands around Leorio’s, he gives it a soft kiss and closes his eyes, crooning a song that had been stuck in his head for the past few hours. And then he plays around with each finger, flexing and folding and fondling until eventually, he lets go and lays back against the headboard. It’s late. They’re both tired.</p><p>Leorio returns to his bed after being denied a goodnight kiss, turns off the lamp and rolls onto his side, struggling to make sense of the blur settling down next to him. As expected, he is no cat, so there’s no way his eyes will adjust to the pitch-black room. He can only rely on Kurapika’s deep breathing, falling asleep to the same beat. </p><p>And then he begins to dream. About Kurapika, about Killua, about Gon, and even about Alluka. It's a strange mixture of bitter coffee-like words and sweet cotton-like gestures, all dissolving in this small jar of water that was likely to be drunk slowly throughout the night and give him that sower aftertaste of happy tears.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>ah the screaming bit was impulsive sorry</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi uhh,,,<br/>I knowwww my posting schedule is completely messed up I'm so sorry dfbhihweu<br/>Since the last chapter was pretty late my brain cells had a hard time figuring out when to post this one but from now on I'll do my best to post every two Mondays!</p>
<p>On another note, thank you so much for the support so far!! I'm so happy some of you are enjoying the fic!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gon had spent the entire morning at home, helping around with chores, and now it was finally time to go. Two in the afternoon, right after lunch. That’s what Mito had promised, and he was not having any of her excuses.</p>
<p>“It’s so sunny out, you should wait a little bit more,” she said, drowned in dish soap and water and dishes. It was a busy day at the bar; there was an event going on nearby and many travellers decided to stop by.</p>
<p>Gon stuck his tongue out and ran outside, getting both protests from his aunt and cheers from the customers. </p>
<p>He couldn’t care less about what was going on in the bar.</p>
<p>Outside, the trees welcomed him with that familiar smell of summer rain, and bees tickled at his ears while high grass seeped into his sandals. He couldn't help but let out a bright, youthful laugh before taking off towards the mountain in tiny hops, belting out his favourite lullaby to anyone who would listen.</p>
<p>And the forest sang, too, swaying in the soft breeze and adorning their child in all sorts of pretty flowers and small animals until finally, he reached the nearest lake; his second home. It glistened and danced between reeds and stones and erupted when Gon hopped right in, like a frog alternating from lily pad to lily pad to lily pad.</p>
<p>Except that there were no lily pads, just fish——thousands of fish——nipping at his skin as if saying hello.</p>
<p>So he greeted them, every one of them, curling his toes around slippery stones and moving one foot at a time before crashing down into the lake, scaring all the fish away. They didn’t come back, and his calls after them were actually a big part of the problem.</p>
<p>It wasn’t a nice feeling, but he knew fish didn’t like humans. That was something he definitely could relate to. If he had to pick between spending an afternoon in the forest and spending an afternoon at a bazaar, the former was always the first choice. On second thought, maybe some company would be nice—but nothing too outrageous. A few friends (very close friends) he knew wouldn’t scare away the animals. That would be enough. A perfect afternoon.</p>
<p>He already had the forest. Now he had to find friends.</p>
<p>As if answering his thoughts, a few frogs made their way to the riverbank, and Gon eagerly petted their slimy backs. He knew they weren’t dangerous: a few fishermen had taught him how to differentiate a few years ago. They weren’t humans, but they would surely be the best friends he would find today.</p>
<p>Excited, Gon stood up and dragged his feet out of the lake and onto the mushy grass outside. A rather large frog was lifted off the ground and held tightly between two chubby hands, then rushed to a tree, where he was placed down and told to stay put. As quickly as he could, Gon built a small cottage made of stones and leaves, then placed the frog inside and laid down. Nice.</p>
<p>“How are you doing today, Mr Frog?” He could have chosen so many names! But now it was too late to change it, the last thing he wanted to do was give the poor frog an identity crisis. “I’m okay, too.”</p>
<p>The sun was so bright—too bright. Gon had no option but to roll onto his tummy and get a taste of grass. Not nice. At least he was able to see his friend, who ran away every two seconds and had to be hauled back. “I’m not going to hurt you,” Gon whispered, sitting up and setting the frog on his lap. He gave it a light kiss. Not his favourite texture, but better than dirt.</p>
<p>It took a bit of begging and grabbing for Mr Frog to accept his fate as Gon’s best friend for the afternoon, but once that was over with they were finally able to enjoy a riverside tea party with a few other animals and watch the sunset from the canopy. All in all, it was pretty fun.</p>
<p>But now it was dark, which meant Gon put the frog back where it belonged and headed home, his pacing slower than before and clothes, dirtier. He’d probably get scolded for that.</p>
<p>...</p>
<p>“Gon,” Mito’s voice dived into his bedroom. “Come see this!”</p>
<p>Anything that Gon might “see” that hasn’t been seen was a good reason to drop his book and walk into the bar, and it didn’t take long before he sat froggy-style on the counter, eyes so wide they might as well completely dry up.</p>
<p>Mito poured some beer into a cup and introduced a tired traveller, handing him the drink.</p>
<p>“I’m an artist,” he furthered, moving away and allowing Gon’s bright eyes to scan the quickly progressing sketchbook spread. Splatters of paint dotted the page, forming the prettiest, most detailed koi fish Gon had ever seen. And they were so calming, too. The strokes disappeared into the page, then resurfaced to shape another blurry fish. </p>
<p>“I draw, too,” Gon said. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it, slowly; carefully. Bam. Colourful drawings of the forest, shining and messy but personal. And original, too. Drawn from life. The artist scanned each one of the scribbles, identifying the animals and laughing at funny doodles. </p>
<p>“How old are you?”</p>
<p>“Seven!”</p>
<p>“Eight,” Mito corrected. She was used to it already, Gon kept forgetting. Or he just avoided growing up as a whole. Who knows?</p>
<p>The artist let out a small chuckle, then raised the paper so he could get a better view. “You have a talent,” he said. “How much are you offering?”</p>
<p>Gon looked up in confusion, and that only grew when Mito brushed away whatever it was the artist was suggesting. “You really don't have to,” she begged, taking his now empty cup and dumping it into the sink.</p>
<p>“How about thirty jenny?”</p>
<p>To say that Mito was close to fainting would be an understatement. She had almost toppled down, refusing to believe this was happening.</p>
<p>All Gon understood was that he was about to get money, and that meant he would be able to get the toy Mito refused to buy. So with a joyful yell, he leapt up and accepted the offer, despite getting scolded by his aunt, who immediately jumped in to cancel it.</p>
<p>“Alright, so how about we make it twenty?”</p>
<p>“Ten,” Mito insists.</p>
<p>“Fifteen.”</p>
<p>“Ten.”</p>
<p>“Sure.”</p>
<p>He pulled out a neat ten jenny note and slapped it onto Gon’s palm, who gladly took it, thanking the artist and running back into his room.</p>
<p>In reality, for him, what truly mattered wasn't the money. And no, it wasn’t “the journey” or whatever. After all, the only journey he went through was the small negotiation he watched from afar.</p>
<p>What mattered was that someone had seen him; that he wasn’t invisible. That his actions impacted more than just himself. He drew something. And he gave the artist his drawings. And he got money in return. And this money will be handed over to someone else, and someone else, and someone else. Someone who won’t get it if Gon hadn’t sold his drawing, maybe someone who desperately needs it.</p>
<p>And not only that, but his drawing would be in that artist’s pocket, and Gon would be in his head. He saw Gon. He talked to Gon. And most importantly, he secured a (however small) legacy. Maybe ten years from now that drawing would make its way back to Whale Island, and he’ll remember things he had thrown away with time.</p>
<p>For a boy who was so used to being second-place, this was, for sure, something to be proud of. He was, for once, on the front line. Battling conversations. Showing off his creations. Taking first-hand information.</p>
<p>Well, of course, all that was way too much for Gon’s brain to grasp. All he knew was that he felt important, and that made him happy enough to cherish the ten jenny note dearly.</p>
<hr/>
<p>They had a fun night. Truth or dare with Alluka (and Nanika), a drag show featuring their hideous sense of fashion and makeup skills, nightmares—what? Yes. But that was pretty much a part of their routine by now.</p>
<p>But after a particularly chill night, they are now wide awake and bored out of their minds.</p>
<p>And they are hungry.</p>
<p>“Alright, alright, wake up!” Killua yells, banging onto Kurapika’s and Leorio’s door with the amazing harmonies Gon created with television remotes. They would break for sure, but who cared.</p>
<p>Leorio, possibly. And Killua might, too. Well, Kurapika most definitely would. Maybe he should stop. Use your hands instead, those would work fine.</p>
<p>From the other room comes a booming “we’ve been awake for the past hour, shut up!” which is, for sure, Leorio and his rusty, morning voice. Anyone would be able to tell he had just woken up, and more evidence was available when the door opened up and the two-person marching band walked in.</p>
<p>“Leorio, weren’t you awake?” Gon stops clapping his hands. He had been lied to. That’s not nice. Still half-asleep, Leorio lifts himself onto his elbow, muttering some protests at a hopeless Kurapika for opening the door, but only to be cut off mid-sentence when Gon dared to jump onto a very vulnerable stomach.</p>
<p>Leorio’s shocked expression does it for Killua, who cries out in laughter to a point where his neck is in pain. It earns him several stares, but by now his eyes are too clogged up in tears to see it and Gon has to——quite literally——snap him out of it.</p>
<p>“According to the pamphlet, the Hotel’s breakfast closes in thirty minutes.” Kurapika checks his watch to make sure, and then they’re asked to go back to their room so Leorio can get beaten up for being lazy or something.</p>
<p>Alluka had left a few minutes earlier——now the room was all theirs. The room, her stuffed teddy, the pillows, the closet. The closet. “Killua! We should build a fort,” Gon suggests, already ripping the pillows from the bed and piling them up on the floor. </p>
<p>Killua’s eyebrows twitch in confusion, but he joins in. “You’ll never grow up.”</p>
<p>“So what?”</p>
<p>All he gets as a reply is a shrug, but it’s shoved into a corner and replaced with a dedication to making the fluffiest closet fort in existence. They strip the beds and use every single blanket available to make a comfortable flooring, then dive inside and shut the door. It’s dark. And quiet. Give them some time to settle down. Find a good position. And now Gon’s elbow just got stomped. And maybe he grabbed Killua’s wrist instead of a pillow. Oh, sorry about that. That’s my foot. My hand. My ankle. Do you have your phone? I do. Turn it on.</p>
<p>A sharp light floods the fort and helps the two untangle. They take a second to appreciate their creation until finally, a conversation surges. It’s mostly about travels and school and pretty much everything they didn’t talk about through the phone or last night or last day, but it’s not a quiet conversation at all. They burst in laughter at the stupidest of things and every story is told with loud sound effects and bold gestures.</p>
<p>Truth be told, the feeling of longing tugged at their hearts even after a full day together, and the minimal physical contact was far from enough. Sure, Gon had offered (given) a few hugs, but those were quick and choppy. Killua hates hugs.</p>
<p>But this time, it’s different. They are enclosed; separated from whatever is going on outside. They are together, and they are in privacy, and they are enjoying each other's company. Even when Gon headbutts the ceiling. Even when Killua lets out a sneaky fart. It’s even a bit amusing. Not completely amusing, no, it’s disgusting and that takes away space for amusing-ness. There isn’t much to complain though, it adds more spice to the conversation.</p>
<p>“And then Mito told me to–”</p>
<p>Poof.</p>
<p>A glare.</p>
<p>“It was with my mouth, it was with my mouth!” Killua admits, louder the second time in order to get the point across before getting in trouble. Sneaky.</p>
<p>But then the closet is engulfed in, by far, the worst stench any of them had ever smelled. It was not with his mouth. Gon looks over at Killua, who is now desperately trying to open the door amidst apologise and nervous chuckles.</p>
<p>“Gon, I think we’re stuck.” He pushes at the door one more time, but to no avail.</p>
<p>“You're joking.”</p>
<p>No, he wasn't. They were stuck in the closet. And suffocating in the terrible stench. Not nice. What now? Now they wait. Eventually, Leorio and Kurapika would stop joking around and help them out.</p>
<p>That would be nice.</p>
<p>Yes. Now they had to wait for the ridiculous idea of being locked in a closet to die down because laughing significantly reduces productivity.</p>
<p>“Hey, bro, would it be gay if I proposed to you in the closet?” Killua says with a wheeze, slapping Gon’s back.</p>
<p>Gon, in turn, keeps cackling, but then sucks it in for enough time to hiss a “That's not funny!” before releasing it all again. Surprisingly, just because he said it’s not funny doesn’t mean he wouldn’t like to join in. “Would it be gay if I held your hand in the closet?” he adds, accidentally kneeing Killua’s chin in an attempt to take Killua’s hand.</p>
<p>Killua’s face burns red, almost as if it was on literal fire. In the blink of an eye, Gon is kicked into the other corner and forced at gun-point to take that back, barely getting the words out before the fort is once again full of laughter.</p>
<p>That's when footsteps enter their room and the two call out for help. Leorio creeks open the door but can’t exactly keep a straight face as Gon and Killua crawl out. He's not used to the rich kid routine: build forts and get stuck in closets with your best friend in the whole world. “How did that happen?”</p>
<p>Gon smiles widely and walks into the hallway. “Who knows,” he beams, then proceeds to completely change the subject. Closet tea is for the closet, when they're outside, they talk about outside tea. Like where they would eat. That's a nice conversation.</p>
<p>Kurapika pulls out his phone and gives it a few taps. “Well, I don’t think we’ll make to the Hotel’s restaurant on time. There's a bar nearby–”</p>
<p>“Can’t, we’re sixteen.” —Killua</p>
<p>“Well, there’s a restaurant too,” he picks up. “A ten-minute walk.”</p>
<p>And so, the four begin the journey to the restaurant. Of course, after applying enough sunscreen and confiscating Kurapika’s sweater.</p>
<p>“You need some vitamin D,” Leorio argues.</p>
<p>“I have pills for that.”</p>
<p>The rest of the conversation is ignored by Gon for several reasons. Why listen to big medical terms when he can enjoy the plants seeping into the sidewalk and cars honking in a rush? And he can also walk beside Killua, take in the smell of his deodorant and try to imitate the way he walks. Very quiet and precise, like any mistake could cost him his life.</p>
<p>At some point, his imitation is interrupted. Leorio runs up to them with a phone that isn't his. “Kurapika is such a pain. I stole the directions, let's run.”</p>
<p>Three, two, boom. Off they go, zipping through town and haphazardly making it to the organic restaurant Kurapika recommended. It's old-fashioned and retro, but also extremely rustic, lined with plants and wood, and not something they expected from Yorkshin. </p>
<p>Panting like soggy frogs, Gon leads the way and asks for a table, then the three pour onto the sofa and take many, many, many deep breaths, their chests rising and dropping faster than Gon’s mental health two years ago.</p>
<p>“What if he gets lost?” Gon says, sitting up as straight as possible.</p>
<p>Leorio shrugs. “He won’t.”</p>
<p>Immediately, the Kurapika’s phone starts ringing—it's an unknown number. Nice. Who wants to talk to the mafia?</p>
<p>“You go,” Leorio chuckles, sliding the phone over to Killua. He clears his throat and prepares to receive the shock of whoever is on the other side of the line. After all, Kurapika never answers his phone.</p>
<p>“Hello, sir,” he sings with the deepest voice he can muster. “It is I, the—”</p>
<p>“Let me talk to Leorio.” Not the mafia. Just Kurapika. Uncool. Devastated, he gives up the phone and lays back, running a hand through his long hair. </p>
<p>“Don’t lose hope,” Gon assures. “I'm sure you'll succeed one day!”</p>
<p>“That's so broad. What will I succeed on?”</p>
<p>“I don't know, talking to the mafia?” That sounded like a nice vacation goal. Hey, Alluka, we’re moving out. I'm wanted by the Mafia.</p>
<p>Nice.</p>
<p>It takes a bit of chit-chatting and complaining, but eventually, Leorio leaves the restaurant to pick up his lost sheep at the hotel.</p>
<p>Now it was just the two of them. The two of them, the indie music, and the baby crying in his father’s lap, and the couple arguing over whatever couples argue, and some kids mocking their friend. Why do kids do that?</p>
<p>“It’s not like you’re one to talk,” Gon says, “You always make fun of people!” And it’s not nice.</p>
<p>“Not anymore!” With a loud groan, Killua droops farther down his seat and stretches his arms up high, dropping his right hand smack-dab on Gon’s nose. Painful, but funny nonetheless.</p>
<p>For both.</p>
<p>What is funny, too, is the tingly feeling that pours over Gon’s body when his eyes meet Killua’s, even if only a few times. His nails find their way into his mouth, and a small chuckle drops onto the cushioned seat. Oh, how he wished he could stick their gaze together with hot glue; how he wished Killua would let him have a bigger sample of his eyes, shining in endless shades of blue and covered in indescribable beauty. </p>
<p>He could stare into them forever and still need more.</p>
<p>That feeling only gets stronger when their hands brush against each other for a split second and for that second the world stops spinning, and for that second nothing else matters anymore, and Gon might as well just commit to it but what if he doesn't want that and things get weird? What if I take his hand and he doesn't like it? The reaction he got in the closet wasn’t the best, after all.</p>
<p>Gon’s head almost bursts from the questions. He wants, so bad, to feel Killua’s warmth against his fingers. So, so bad. But what if that's not what Killua wants? It could go terribly wrong. But it also could go amazingly well.</p>
<p>He can’t make any decisions. </p>
<p>So even after Kurapika and Leorio both take a seat in front of them, and even after the waitress takes their orders (and rejects Leorio quite a few times), and even as they eat their vegan burgers and salmon pokes, Gon steals glance after glance, hoping those would satisfy the bubbles in his stomach. It’s a fun game. Try not to giggle. Try not to avert your gaze. Whoever looks away first loses.</p>
<p>But it does make talking a very hard activity. Where to look?</p>
<p>“Remember that guy from the Hunter Exam? Tonpa, I think,” Leorio mumbles with a scratch to back of his head. Gon’s jaw almost drops at the mention, his head full of unpleasant memories. Not nice.</p>
<p>Kurapika sinks his head into his palm with a loud sigh, while Killua visibly struggles to sort out his brain cells.</p>
<p>Gon speaks up. “That guy with bushy eyebrows who followed us around for most of the exam.”</p>
<p>“Until Kurapika and I starved him to death,” Leorio interrupted.</p>
<p>It takes a while, but eventually a lightbulb sparks on in Killua’s head and he lets out a (quite noisy) “Oh!”.</p>
<p>“Holy crap, that guy was the worst,” he recalled, eyes focused on the table. “But he wasn’t dead, I saw him on my second Hunter Exam.” </p>
<p>That was the beginning of a completely different subject. No more talking about cheating (a topic that had popped up with Leorio’s attempts to hit on the waitress mixed with Killua’s cursed brain). Now they were reliving the Hunter Exam, where it all began. Where they first met, where Killua asked “how old are you,” and so did Leorio. And where Gon answered truthfully, but Kurapika held back. Where Gon first felt a sense of belonging; a sense of familiarity. He couldn’t quite put a finger to it, but it was this fuzzy feeling that warmed his heart and brought a smile to his lips.</p>
<p>Sure, he had Mito. But she wouldn’t teach him the art of negotiating, or how to sit comfortably on a third-class seat, or how failed the government was. And she wouldn’t understand the pain and trauma he went through in the palace invasion two years ago. She could try, but it wouldn’t be close to the comprehension these guys had. They, too, had seen a lot—enough—and they, too, had found difficult solutions. They knew each other better than anyone else ever could, and it was truly fate that brought them together.</p>
<p>And Gon wasn’t the only one who thought like that. Kurapika, too, was undoubtedly saved by their friendship. What would’ve happened to him if he didn’t have these idiots to keep him from dying?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>First of all, thank you once again for the support!! </p><p>I took a break to plan the next "cycle" I guess, and I would like to apologise in advance for all of the angst I AM AN ANGSTY WRITER I AM SORRY ;-;. Since this chapter was more of a transition chapter I decided to keep it short (also because I'm really excited for the next one, cuz that's when stuff is gonna like actually happen ;v;)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Have you heard?"</p><p>"Did you see it?"</p><p>"Who was it?'</p><p>"Where?"</p><p>"When?"</p><p>"How?"</p><p>Ghost-like voices whispered in the dusty streets, surrounding small groups of friends. Kurapika didn't give it much care: all he needed was a new pair of shoes, and he bought it as quickly as possible before returning to the house he was staying at, which happened to be hand-picked by the Elder for safety reasons. There was no need to hide.</p><p>He had grown pretty used to the outside world, and although his search for a doctor was going slow, there were some hints here and there. Soon, he would be able to return home to Pairo, his mother, his father, and everyone else. Oh, how he missed them. How he missed their language, and their celebrations, and their culture-his culture. As much as he tried to stick to the tribe's values, it wasn't easy being the sole Kurta in the outside world. No clothing: Kurapika had to sew them himself from scratch with whatever spare fabric he had left from older clothes. His hosts didn't have much, either. They were simple bakery workers, getting just enough to pay rent and afford the bare minimum. Especially with an extra mouth to feed, money was extremely tight.</p><p>Nevertheless, Kurapika appreciated what he had: a house, a bed, food, and, most importantly, the freedom to explore. The only inconvenience was the dark contact lenses, but that was minor compared to the experience as a whole. This world he so yearned for was no longer just a dream, and every single morning Kurapika wondered who gifted him with so much luck.</p><p>It was all too good to be true.</p><p>"I'm home," Kurapika announced, slipping into his sandals. The house was simple; two rooms, a bathroom, and a kitchen with a table, all swatched with a meter-high blue streak that wrapped around the walls (apparently a creation of the couple's child, who left for studies). In the living room, the television was turned on to a random news channel, as it usually was. But there was no one on the couch. Now, that was unusual, at least for a Saturday morning.</p><p>"Unusual" is also how the husband walked into the living room with a clear frown, pursing his lips before saying, "We need to talk." He was a tall yet thin man, and his mouth had a constant quake to it, which caused the words to come out crooked. Kurapika liked it, there was something about it (and the cane and shaky legs and balding head) that just screamed humanity. DinoHunter was right, the outside world wasn't just monsters.</p><p>However, what scared Kurapika was that they never "talked." Why would they now? Crap, maybe he found out about the ant cult he started with the neighbour. What terrible timing, they were finally going to start building an altar in the woods. It was completely harmless, no ants were hurt, no ants were abducted, no, they were teaching them how to read and write, that was, actually, the opposite of harming, right? Isn't education supposed to be accessible? Well, then they were doing the right thing and you cannot ground me for that, sir.</p><p>Many, many, times Kurapika had been shoved into the corner of shame for pranking around, and it was not fun.</p><p>Nevertheless, he followed him into the kitchen and sat down on a stool, his stomach glittering up like ripples on a pond. He hated this tension. Just tell him what's going on, already.</p><p>"There was a mass killing-"</p><p>"A genocide." The wife walked in, tying her greying curls just behind her neck.</p><p>Genocide. Kurapika had read about those in the past. Sounded pretty scary, and considering how they usually go unnoticed for quite a while it's nice that the couple is keeping him updated. Shifting a bit on his seat, he nervously fiddles with his fingers and looks at the clock on the wall. Barely a minute had gone by. Now that's unexpected.</p><p>"It happened in the Lukso Province," she continued. Woah, close to home. Now that's even scarier. Was it, perhaps, in the city he and Pairo went shopping? That would be terrible, there were some pretty sweet people living there.</p><p>His ears perk up at the sound of a hiccup. The husband, covering his melting face, excuses himself and leaves for a moment to regain his composure. And the wife doesn't look any better. She softly takes Kurapika's hand and kneels, opening and closing her lips over and over and over again. Not once did she look him in the eye.</p><p>It gets suspicious. Way too suspicious. Something was up, and they weren't telling him about it. "What happened?" he manages, heartbeats swallowing any sounds in its way.</p><p>"The Kurta tribe was murdered earlier this month."</p><p>It's like a canoe ran over him, drowning Kurapika in a suffocating stream. His ears aren't working; there's no way they were. He was never the sharpest listener. He must have heard it wrong.</p><p>"I'm sorry, what?" His voice sounds foreign. That's not him. Why is he speaking this weird language? Why is he sitting on this stool, under this lady's roof, listening to such absurd lies?</p><p>"The Kurta tribe was murdered earlier this month," she repeats, removing a folded up newspaper article from her pocket. "The bandits took the eyes. You can see it for yourself."</p><p>Nice prank, you brought tears to his eyes. Now give him the good news or whatever. Show your true self.</p><p>No? Why do you shake your head? He asked you to break it off, so break it off.</p><p>No?</p><p>The whimpers start quietly at first, just enough to let short breaths in and out. But then the wife lets go of his hands and apologises, and that's all he needs. Before he can help himself, he's vomiting tears, wailing into sloppy hands that can do nothing to brush away his now soaking bangs. His gasps come out rigid and raspy, ripping his throat into so many sections it hurts, and his eyes squeeze shut in a failed attempt to keep it all in. This isn't true. it can't be happening. Why now? Why not six weeks earlier, when he could have gone with them?</p><p>The universe had turned his back on him, there was no other explanation. Why would it do that? Why didn't it send a sign? Why did it make Kurapika leave so early? Why didn't it trap the bandits in the forest so he could come and get them? Why didn't it lead the Kurtas away from danger?</p><p>Pairo. He was so fragile. Who was there to protect him? His father didn't care, that was for sure. Maybe Pairo tried to be nice. He was always good at singing, no one could beat him at that. Pairo sang the children to sleep. His voice could calm anyone down. That's what they said, and that's what Kurapika experienced, too. If his eyes burned red, all it would take was a melody to relieve whatever was piercing his heart.</p><p>Maybe Pairo tried to sing to them because they were angry, and it's refreshing to feel not angry. But they are also heartless. They wouldn't pay attention to an eleven-year-old. Kurapika bet they didn't even hesitate before taking his life away.</p><p>But wait, did Pairo even realise what was going on? Were his eyes good enough to see them breaking in? Or maybe he heard them, and then it was too late. He was probably so angry for being left to die. Kurapika knew he should have taken him to explore the world. That's what they were going to do, explore the world, that's the promise they made. What a terrible person, you managed to betray your one real friend. What would his parents think?</p><p>Oh, his parents. Right. They were no exception.</p><p>His mother probably tried to fight back. She probably landed a few hits, he knew she would. She was strong. She wouldn't lose to any bandit. That wasn't who she was. They definitely pulled a dirty prank.</p><p>If only he had stayed, no, if only he hadn't climbed up that cliff all those years back, no, if only Pairo had let him die right then and there then he would never have taken the exit test and-</p><p>That's it.</p><p>It wasn't the universe's fault; it was his fault all along. He was the one who lost control in that city and exposed the red eyes to a bunch of ignorant strangers. And then those strangers followed him back to the village and mapped the forest and showed it to the bandits and in less than two months the bandits were able to take away everything Kurapika had with their bare hands.</p><p>It left him with this painful hole in his heart. It wasn't that something was missing: everything was missing.</p><p>Overwhelmed, Kurapika let out a piercing yell, his head in pain from the thinking and shock and pain and grief. Another one. The couple rushed into the kitchen and begged him to calm down, but it was no use. As much as he tried, he was no longer in control of his mouth. Scream after scream, howl after howl, he knew he was going to die. There was simply no way he would make out of this alive. To be honest, by then he could barely breathe, let alone remember to, and if it weren't for the constant reminders he would have died. His chest ached, his head ached, everything ached.</p><p>The room was blurry; muffled; filled with this haunting mourning. And it was mortifying to see the usually stoic and quiet Kurapika completely lose control: he had been possessed by this other creature, and there was no swatting it away.</p><p>All the unfinished stories and unresolved conflicts and everything he didn't apologise for flashed before his eyes. He didn't apologise for breaking his mother's vase. Or for releasing a pet ladybug. Or for spitting out the food his father so dearly cooked after a tantrum.</p><p>Oh, and all the stories he would never get to tell.</p><p>Like how he felt a funny feeling in his tummy whenever he was with a certain someone who lived nearby, or how he helped around at the bakery from time to time and got compliments and lollipops in return, or even how he snuck into the kitchen sometimes, brewing some of his father's stew, although it never quite seemed to work.</p><p>He owed his parents so much for the opportunity to leave-for the opportunity to live.</p><p>It just wasn't fair.</p><p>He was the one supposed to fall victim to prejudice, not the ones secured in the forest. Had everything been a lie all along? Would they really be safer outside? Was this the plan, to make him suffer for being such a bad child? The ultimate punishment.</p><p>I want to die. That was the one thing in Kurapika's heart at that moment, and he could feel that wish slowly coming true. With every violent sob came a strong punch to his chest, and his lunch slowly made its way up to his throat while a burning feeling crawled onto his cheeks and sunk into his palms. Was he still crying? He definitely couldn't tell. An infuriating ring had now replaced the muffled noises in the room and blocked out any "take deep breaths" spoken by the couple.</p><p>But even though he couldn't hear them, he could think again. Fear of the so-wanted death took over. Maybe it would be better to obey the couple. So he did, taking in the strange scent of perfume that bloomed from the wife's arms. And after several breaths and even more gasps and tears, all went quiet, and the dizziness left, and he was suddenly too exhausted to make even the smallest of movements.</p><p>It takes a while for his lips to form words again. Thoughts are still spinning around his head and there's a tight knot obstructing his throat. But a hard question is more than enough for his muscles to start moving again.</p><p>"You're kicking me out, right?"</p><p>The wife pulled away, brushing his bangs all the way to the back of his head. "What do you mean? We would never."</p><p>"But you should! I'm trouble, they'll come after me, and they'll come after you, too, and they'll find me-us, and-"</p><p>Kurapika was once again enveloped in a warm hug, tears stinging his eyes. He wanted to cry. Again. This was embarrassing.</p><p>"We would never."</p>
<hr/><p>"We could do something special today."</p><p>They are all way too full to move, and thinking is even less possible. Not surprisingly, Gon's suggestion is pretty much ignored; thrown out the window (probably just poured onto the floor, the window idea would take too much effort.</p><p>It's not unusual to see Killua eat to oblivion, and Leorio and Gon weren't that big of a surprise either, but then there's a bloated Kurapika, splayed all over his seat, mindlessly poking his phone in a very... unimpressive way.</p><p>Coming from someone who tends to eat just the necessary for a healthy diet, that is quite shocking.</p><p>But it feels nice: for once he isn't the only one able to stand up. He can feel the pain punching his stomach, and it's like he's one with the rest.</p><p>The rest, who helped each other up then limped outside. The rest, who tried to laugh at the way Leorio ran into the glass door but were in too much pain. Killua, shut up and find a taxi.</p><p>"Aunt Mito told me we should always take a walk after eating," Gon insists. He's not very happy about getting rejected earlier. "And it's not fair that you guys choose everything I do."</p><p>"You chose to go swimming, and I doubt you'll be capable of convincing the others that walking is the best option." Kurapika manages to shove him into the cab, albeit getting flushed with the strong scent of car cleaner. It's not that he isn't prepared for it, it's just that this cab had exaggerated. If he wasn't worried about disappointing the driver, he would've coughed. And he can see poor Gon holding one in, too. What a fun way to start a trip.</p><p>Killua takes the front seat (of course, not without threatening Leorio) and the doors all shut in unison. The backseat is cramped up, and it takes a while for Kurapika, Leorio and Gon to put on their seatbelts. There are also some difficulties, as expected since Killua tries not once but twice to chuck his bag behind him for extra space, and those are met with deadly glares.</p><p>The car hums to a start, and one by one, they start dropping dead. Well, not dead. Just a deep sleep; a very deep sleep. Kurapika feels like he might, too, at any given moment. Due to traffic, it would take longer by car than by foot to get to the hotel: cars had to go around the city square, while pedestrians, logically, were free to roam around. But he doesn't trust the driver, and that's enough to keep him awake.</p><p>Depending on the turn, Gon's head hits against Kurapika's shoulder with a terrifying clench that probably roots in his teeth. That seems to be pretty annoying (not to mention painful) and no wonder he wakes up every now and then to find a comfortable position somewhere along Leorio's arm. Anywhere between shoulder and elbow was preferred.</p><p>It's a funny sight. He dances around with the car, half-awake, but half-asleep. Until he seems to give up, muttering something under his breath.</p><p>"I should have sat in the middle, that way you could get some sleep," Kurapika says.</p><p>Gon rubs at his eyes then stretches every last muscle. "Don't worry about that, if I sleep too much I won't sleep at night."</p><p>"So we can do something special tonight, does that fit your liking?"</p><p>Gon's face lights up with a smile. "That sounds great," he says, maybe a bit too loud. Then his gaze moves to Leorio, attracted by the snores. While part of him wants to snap a few pictures, another part feels somewhat bad. So he shakes his head and turns back to Kurapika. "Can I try your hat?"</p><p>Now, that was definitely too loud, and the car fills up with shushes for a second before going back to the quietude, giving the spotlight to the sound of the motor, and the crowds outside, and the honkings, and the GPS. It's a busy city, different from pretty much any other city Kurapika had ever lived in.</p><p>Just from looking out the car window he can see buildings that reach up to the sky, people in fancy outfits pacing on the sidewalks and bicycles and in cars and buses and enormous billboards lighting up in all sorts of colours. It hurt his eyes, but also fascinated him in indescribable ways. Why would Yorknew, of all cities, be oh so advanced? What brought people to start investing in a city that started from most likely nothing?</p><p>A few more minutes pass and the car halts. Gon haphazardly throws the straw hat back onto Kurapika's head and starts to shake Leorio awake in an attempt to get out, actually ending up getting pulled through the opposite door by Kurapika, who then makes his way around.</p><p>"Oh no, I am so sleepy," Leorio mutters before steadying his voice. "Kurapika, carry me to the room."</p><p>"Never." Instead, he turns his back and puts an effort to catch up with Gon and Killua, who are already nearing the elevators.</p>
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